


Dreaming of New England, and of You

by jublelion



Category: Disney Animated Fandoms, Disney Cartoons (Classic), Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Drowning, Homophobia, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jublelion/pseuds/jublelion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Smith is cultured, well traveled, strong, and he saved Thomas' life by jumping off the ship and hauling him back. Thomas decides to thank him. </p><p>or, An account of how Thomas Wright knew and loved the adventurer John Smith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of New England, and of You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There is a description of drowning, because it happens, and a brief mention of a fear of homophobic reprisal. 
> 
> If drowning is triggering for you, maybe skip the two paragraphs from "Say your prayers lad!" to "Well, that was refreshing."
> 
> This story will probably stick pretty close to the events in the Disney "Pocahontas" movie. I've given Thomas a last name, Wright, because i felt he aught to have one. 
> 
> If you're interested in gay men at sea, may I recommend the "Raised by Wolves" series by W. A. Hoffman? It's about privateers, and you learn a lot about ships and gay men in the 17th century, so a little bit later than John Smith and Thomas are living now.
> 
> I'm looking for a beta and constructive criticism, so please, feel free to leave any!

The storm raged around the ship, throwing buckets, waves, seas of water down on the men. The sails threatened to break loose of their mooring, and the men below deck cried out that the ship was taking on water. John Smith had led a contingent of the bravest, most agile men to tie the sail to the top boom, so that it wouldn’t blow the _Discovery_ off course. Thomas  Wright was on deck, struggling with the others to lash the cannons to the ship, so that they would not be blown off by the rocking and pitching of the storm. To lose a cannon would be an expensive and dangerous accident, one the Virginia Company would surely demand an explanation for. The howling wind and the sheets of salty ocean water made the ropes slippery, and hard to handle. Thomas’ cannon broke the knot that tied it to its mooring on deck, and began to slide across the slick wood. Thomas, a slight lad of only seventeen, struggled against the iron weight of the cannon.

“John! Get down here! The cannons are breaking!”

“Reach the topsails, Stay your course! Don’t worry Thomas, we’ll get her tied off!”

“Say your prayers lads!” shouted the lookout in the birdsnest, as a giant wave crashed over the ship, sweeping Thomas overboard. The ice cold water hit him hard, making him gasp for breath. He thrashed to keep his head above water, gasping, as he inhaled salt water, and fought against the weight of his clothes, which filled with icy water, threatening to sear off his skin and drag him under the surface of the ocean.

“Help!” Thomas cried, desperate that someone save him. _I’m too young to die,_ he thought wildly, _I’m not ready to die!_  Thomas tried to remember the prayers his mother had taught him, as he tried vainly to keep above the crashing, rolling cacophony of the waves. _Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven._ “Help!” he gasped, swallowing more water. _Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. “_ Oh, God, save me!” he said, weakly, before slipping under the waves.

Thomas had pushed against the swift current, and clutched ruitlessly at the surface, but his lungs could not hold on any longer, and he gasped, feeling the icy salt water fill his nose and lungs. Just as Thomas felt he could not bear any more, two strong arms grabbed him around the waist, and pulled him to the surface. “Hold on, Thomas,” John Smith whispered in his ear. “Hold on.” And suddenly, they were out of the water. Rain battered them, but Thomas clung to John, as they were pulled up by George and Wyatt, their fellow sailors. Finally, they were pulled onto deck, and Thomas collapsed on his hand  and knees, coughing up water, and shivering. The others clapped him on the back  and threw a blanket over his shoulders, warming him from the cold.

“Well! That was refreshing!” gasped John Smith, jokingly. The others laughed nervously, as Thomas looked at John with a mixture of awe, gratitude and credulity. _Refreshing?_ Thomas thought. _He must be insane._ Still, he could not help but notice that he felt cleaner than he had in weeks, or the way that John’s wet tunic clung to his body, defining the strong arms, which only moments ago had held Thomas tightly against his muscled chest. Thomas remembered how John’s beard had felt against his neck, and how John’s hands had clung to his waist, and was suddenly very glad of the heavy wool blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. It had even stopped raining.

“Trouble on deck?” the ominous, courtly voice of Captain Radcliffe inquired.

“Thomas fell overboard, sir,” John  replied.

“Thank heavens he’s been successfully retrieved, well done Smith,” Captain Radcliffe said, pompously, before walking off to speak to the men, his prissy manservant, Givens, and yappy dog following, faithfully. John Smith leaned over the edge, smirking at Radcliffe’s “stirring oration.” Thomas, who had warmed up, and finally stopped shaking, did the same, determined that he should do whatever it was that John did.

The storm had ended, and the seas calmed. John and Thomas tightly lashed the cannons to the girding of the deck, and talked about the New World they were about to encounter. Thomas spoke of his dreams of a great fortune, and a fine house.

“What do you suppose the New World will be like, sir?” Thomas asked, as they climbed the rigging to the Bird’s Nest.

“Like all the others, I suppose,” John replied. “I’ve seen hundreds of New Worlds, Thomas. What could possibly be so different about this one?” he asked rhetorically, looking off into the horizon, as if he could see the shore. Thomas sighed, and snuck a look at John’s muscled arms and slim hips as he leaned against the walls of the Nest.

***

 

Thomas sat on deck with the men, repairing a pair of pants which had torn during swab duty, until John Smith retired to his cabin. The men celebrated their survival of the storm with pints of wine, which gave Thomas a light-headed, brave feeling. He yawned, and moved to retire to the sleeping quarters, saying that he was tired from his ordeal.

Instead of slipping off to bed, however, he slipped into John Smith’s cabin. As a successful military campaigner, and captain in the king’s army, John merited his own cabin, though a small one, with a bunk of his own. Thomas knocked on the door, which was ajar. John looked up from the maps spread out on his desk, which were illuminated by a wax candle in a pewter holder. His armor was off, in a neat pile by the bunk, and John sat with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist, his pants hitched up above his knees and his hair pulled back rakishly. He looked at Thomas expectantly.

“Yes, Thomas?” John asked.

“Could I come in, Captain?” Thomas said, somewhat shyly.

“Of course. Is everything alright?” John asked, moving

“Yes, sir,” said Thomas, walking into the cabin, and shutting the door. This last made John raise his eyebrows, although he settled back into his chair. “I was wondering, sir, if you would like company for the evening? Only,” Thomas said, quickly, seeing a surprised John open his mouth to interrupt, “You did save my life, and I…I should like very much to try to return the favor you’ve done me, sir.” Thomas waited as John looked at him with wide eyes.  _Maybe he hasn’t understood…_ _maybe I’m completely off? Oh, how could I have been so stupid, now he’ll tell everyone, and they’ll throw me overboard!_ Thomas thought, anxiously. Thomas opened his mouth again, to apologize, recant his offer, anything, anything to end the oppressive, humiliating silence.

“Alright.”

Thomas thought his ears must have filled with water. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, ‘alright,’ Thomas,” John repeated. He stood up from his desk, and moved over to his bunked bed. Thomas walked across the small cabin, and stood very close to John, who stood several inches above him, so that John had to tilt his head back to look John in the eyes. They were grey, and flashed across Thomas’s face, taking in his auburn hair, his freckled nose, his pointed chin. 

Tentatively, Thomas reached his right hand up, tentatively, and touched the reddish blonde beard, John’s earring, and curled his long, thin fingers through John’s long sandy blonde hair. He pulled John’s head to his, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss. John’s lips were full, and dry, chapped from a life spent at sea. John grasped Thomas’ waist, pulling him closer, so that he could feel John’s bulge against his leg. The sudden pressure made John gasp against Thomas, giving him a chance to lick his lips, and go back for more.

He kissed John hard, his open lips taking in John’s bottom lip. Thomas took it between his teeth, biting  it a little, so that John inhaled sharply, and his erection grew against Thomas’ hip. Thomas stopped kissing John’s lips, and moved his attentions lower, to his collar bone, down the vein at John’s throat, to that muscled spot which joined his broad shoulders to his tanned neck. John’s skin tasted of salt water and sweat, and something spicy and sweet. Thomas nipped at the soft skin above John’s clavicle, which made him growl just a little.  

He pulled at Thomas’ shirt, undoing the laces at the top, and pulling it over his head. John took off his shirt too, so that they were standing there, across from each other, panting, shirtless. John’s chest and shoulders were broad, and well muscled. He was tanned from working on the ship which  accentuated the lines of the muscles on his stomach, his chest, shoulders and arms, which were covered with fine blonde fuzz. In contrast, Thomas felt quite underwhelming. He was pale, with a heavy dusting of freckles across his shoulders and chest. He was largely hairless, save for a smattering of auburn hair at his chest, and a red trail that led down from his naval. Thomas was lithe and lean muscled, and had always been embarrassed about his boyish figure, but John simply smiled and ran his large, confidently calloused hands over Thomas’ shoulders and chest, pulling his pale frame against his own hardened brown chest. The feeling of hot skin against his own stiffened Thomas, who gasped and kissed John violently. John ran his hand over Thomas’ back, clutching him closer.

“Wait, wait,” John panted suddenly, holding Thomas away, as if forcing himself to be separated for a minute. “Are you sure?” asked John, “Are you… have you been with a man before?”

“Yes,” Thomas said. “I’m sure. And never a man, although a boy my age, when I was younger. Please,” he whispered against John’s ear. “I want you.”

John nodded, then, and loosed his pants, which fell around his ankles, revealing muscled legs, and a long, hard cock. He stepped out of his britches and lay down on the bed. “Come,” he said. “Lie next to me.”  Thomas took off his own breeches, peeling off his stockings and folding them neatly. Self-consciously covering his nakedness, he lay down next to John, their legs wrapping around each other. John moved so that he lay on top of Thomas, and kissed him deeply, and then left a trail of kisses down his throat and chest. John’s beard rubbed against Thomas’ throat, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. John flicked his tongue across Thomas’ nipples and Thomas arched his back and moaned softly. John covered his mouth with his hand, and then brought his lips up to take Thomas’s.

Thomas clutched John’s shoulders, as if to let go would send him drowning again. He pushed him back, and planted his knees on either side of John’s hips. He planted kisses down John’s chest, and ran a trail with his tongue down John’s chest, lower, across his abdomen, and even further down, until his chin bumped John’s throbbing member. He looked up at John, who had tilted his head back and was breathing heavily with pleasure. Thomas wrapped his hand around John’s cock and John moaned, deeply, the sound making Thomas’ own cock swell with arousal. Pressing his other hand against it, Thomas moved so that John’s legs were spread, and he could rest between them.

Licking his lips, he took John’s cock in his mouth. The smooth skin and musky taste filled his mouth, and made him hum with pleasure, which made John’s toes curl, and his back arch. Thomas began to suck, running his tongue up the shaft, and flicking over the sensitive tip. John clutched at Thomas’ shoulders, ran his fingers through his hair, and pulled Thomas’ head against him, even as his hips began to jerk forward. Thomas felt himself begin to panic, but took deep breaths through his nose and hummed, sending John’s back into an even more impressive arch.

Thomas licked up the body of John’s cock again, and hollowed his cheeks to create more suction. John groaned with pleasure, and Thomas felt himself growing hard again in response. He bobbed his head again and again, trying to build a rhythm, even against the rocking of the ship. He began to taste the salt of John’s pre-come and began to suck again, harder, alternating with harder sucks at the head of his cock.

“Oh! Oh, yes, there, oh fuck Thomas don’t stop Thomas I’m going to, I’m, So good, oh, yes yes, yes yes OH!” John shouted, as his hips jerked, and he came. Thomas swallowed it down, although the salty taste reminded him of the ocean earlier. He kept sucking on John’s cock until it softened and slipped from between his lips.

“Come here,” John panted, pulling Thomas up to him. He kissed Thomas  softly on the lips, his large hands running over Thomas’ neck and shoulders. 


End file.
